In the Shadow of Sorrow
by Clifton G. McJames
Summary: He longs to escape his past. He wishes only for hapiness. Will peace not find Quatre Winner, before all he achieved as a Gundam pilots crumbles around him?


It happened again.  
I once again woke up in a cold sweat, sitting bolt upright in my bed, and breathing in gasps. The memories had once again overwhelmed me, and had once again chosen to manifest themselves in my dreams, or nightmares, depending on how you looked at it. I looked at the clock on my nightstand. Now, this clock was really neat. It not only told you the time, but it also told you the date. I was not surprised by the fact that it was three in the morning, but the date threw me for a minute.  
The 14th.  
Of course.  
March 14th, A.C. 204. It shouldn't have meant everything it did mean. It shouldn't have been a day of mourning, or a day of sorrow.  
But it was.  
I shook myself and tried to get myself to calm down and go back to sleep. My thoughts drifted to Dorothy and I felt slightly better, but not that much better. I was still shaking from the dream.  
It had been nighttime.  
In that dream, that memory, I was once again behind the controls of the Sandrock Gundam, and I was once again cornered with my allies, because my and their Mobile Suits were spent. And in all accuracy, we were saved by Heero's arrival, but in my dream, I keep praying that my sensors will go off and detect him high above us...  
But he never comes. And slowly, the Serpent suits raise their guns and open fire on us. And suddenly, the gundanium armor on my suit gives way and the next bullet from the Serpent guns come flying right into my cockpit...  
And that's when I wake up.  
March 14th, A.C. 196.  
The last Mobile Suit battle on the face of the earth, and at the same time, it was the fall of the fall of the short-lived Mariemaia faction. I can remember when the Wing-ZERO exploded overhead, and we all thought Heero had died. Miraculously, he hadn't; but he was shell-shocked beyond all belief. He hadn't slept in three days, so he was mentally and physically exhausted. By the time he had collapsed, the war was over; he was once again victorious.  
My...allies and I all went our separate ways after that. I haven't seen any of them since, with the exception of Relena, because she appears on TV every now and then. And Maganac Corps has officially retired as well, with there being no more battles to fight.  
Think of Dorothy, I told myself, and I drifted into an uneasy sleep that immediately planted me in another battlefield nightmare.  
  
Being the executive of a global communications company means two things: you do absolutely nothing all day, but if something goes wrong, you get the blame on the six o'clock news. My office was on a corner of my building, Winner Foundation N.Y., situated in the business district of Manhattan. Two walls of my massive workspace were nothing but thick panes of glass and aside from the occasional phone calls from various providers of WinnerCom, our phone/internet service, the day dragged by exceedingly slow. I sat in my leather chair, dressed in my "fine Italian suit," and stared blankly at my computer screen, which had long ago started its screensaver—ironically enough; the saver was a text reading "You should be WORKING right now."  
I was more or less waiting for 3:00 to roll around. That was when Dorothy would be coming back. My Dorothy...I remember the first time I ever actually met her. She was directing the Mobile Dolls of Mercrius and Veyette. From the moment I met her, I felt something...years later, we ran into each other outside of my building and since then, we have more or less been...going steady, I guess is the term.  
Dorothy Catalonia.  
I really love her.  
When my father was still alive, he always used to tell me, "You'll end up dragging my company through the mud. And you'll never be happy." Well, he got the first part wrong, but for some reason, even with Dorothy in my life, I couldn't shake this...feeling of sorrow. In my most private moments, in my secret heart of hearts, I always feel...saddened, I guess is the word. Dorothy has even told me that when we made love, she never once saw me smile an honest, open smile. "You're too serious, Quatre," she'd tell me. "Lighten up." Then she'd kiss me, and I'd feel a little better...  
But it was almost like a drug. It lasted for a while, but it soon wore off, and each time after the first time, it lost its potency. But I had something planned. A little romantic getaway, just for the two of us.  
Yes sir, 3:00 was when I would pick up Dorothy from the train station.  
3:00 was when my life would officially turn upside down for good.  
  
The train station in New York had been completely redesigned in A.C. 202; it now incorporated a mix of what could be considered gothic design with a modern edge. I waited just outside platform 18, waiting for the train that carried my lovely Dorothy. I had my Benz parked just outside, the engine still running, so we could make a quick getaway; I had reserved a rather large piece of land in the mountains that included a large cabin, where I hoped to escape from this...sudden misery that seemed to enshroud me. Finally, a smile found its way to my face—a genuine, happy smile as I watched the train pull slowly towards the platform. The doors opened, and there she was—tall, gorgeous, and smiling—Dorothy Catalonia. Her blonde hair blew lightly in the breeze as she stepped out of the train. I made my way towards her, smiling and waving, calling out her name...  
I never heard it coming.  
Heero did.  
I broke into a light run, jogging towards the platform. I finally made eye contact with her. I still remember it to this day—a happy smile, a seductive smile, one that lured my closer, closer...  
And suddenly, too late, I heard it: a high pitched screaming sound...like something coming through the air—fast.  
"Quatre!"  
I didn't realize who it was until he tackled me, sending me away from my Dorothy. I had no idea what had compelled him to do that, or even why he was there, but Heero Yuy had once again single-handedly intervened in my life. The moment I tumbled away from him and saw who it was, my stomach began to churn. He was yelling at me, saying to stay down, and I, in my stupor, began climbing back to my feet, hoping to see her again.  
"Quatre! Get down now! It's gonna hit soon!" Heero screamed at me. I ignored him—I refused to believe he was really there—after all, why shouldn't I? I had been having a perfectly normal day, up until I had come here and saw Dorothy. And now, out of the blue, a person I haven't seen for the better part of four years suddenly resurfaces, out of the blue, and tells me to get down?  
Couldn't he see that I was happy?  
I saw Dorothy. I smiled.  
And the fireball engulfed her.  
As I recall it now, it happened very oddly. I remember seeing the missile strike the train. I remember the train buckling, crumpling under the strain. I remember a flash, and then...fire.  
The "boom" and shockwave came last, sending me flying across the station, but I wasn't alone. No, other people had joined my flight. I watched as an elderly couple was smashed into the opposite wall. I watched a human arm, torn, burnt, and bloody, fly past me and hit the same wall. But somehow, I, along with a few others, and Heero, managed to fall before reaching the wall.  
I like to think I am a bit wiser than I used to be, so I don't think I'm stretching to far when I say I went into total shock somewhere at that point. All I remember is the shockwave, and then, I passed out.  
  
When I awoke, I hoped it would be in my bed, or in my office, and I would look at the clock and see that it was 2:30 and then I'd remember that I had to pick up Dorothy...but no. I was looking out the window of my car. We were moving through New York (Manhattan, to be exact) and I could see that several buildings had been hit in the attack. The train station, the Empire State Building, Trump Tower, The Chrysler Building...  
...Winner Foundation NY.  
The person driving was swerving all over the place. Somehow, Heero had noticed I was awake and began saying, "They call themselves the NewWave. They've been planning this attack since before OZ. They only chose to strike now because they saw OZ as a problem and needed it taken care of, so they waited until Operation Meteor and until the war was over. However, they never foresaw Mariemaia, so that threw a wrench in their plans. But now, with time on their side and enough Mobile Suits stockpiled to overthrow the ESUN, they have chosen to finally attack. Not just here—Tokyo, Kyoto, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Houston, Austin, Miami, Indianapolis, Chicago, Detroit, Denver, Paris, Berlin, Luxembourg—"  
"I get it," I finally said, but for some reason all I could think was who the hell would attack Luxembourg? It's nothing!  
"Where are we going?" I asked.  
"New Jersey. We're going to take a private shuttle to L1-X8790. After that—that depends on Duo."  
"What?" I asked, looking over at him. An extremely grim look was on his face.  
"Quatre," he said, "this is only the beginning. Four of us are back. And when he gets the chance, Wufei will be there too. But I can't explain it right now. I have to get us out of here—now."  
Heero looked grimly at the rubble strewn streets and floored it. I felt a sudden panic come over me. Why? Why now? Couldn't anyone see I had been happy?  
I had finally...been happy... 


End file.
